


Steeped in Tradition

by Ki_Ken_Tai_Ichi



Series: Kylux Positivity Week (the 3rd) [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: As We All Should, BUT ONLY A LITTLE FLUFF, Brendol Hux's A+ Parenting, Internalized Misogyny, Kylux Positivity Week (Star Wars), M/M, Oblivious Armitage Hux, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Soft Kylo Ren, Wedding Fluff, Wedding ceremonies, but it's because of, in case anyone is interested in the timeline, it's mostly Hux complaining, just a little, of course this fic also completely ignores The Rise of Skywalker, say it with me, which is something I like but I get it if that's not your thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-10
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 14:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29951343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ki_Ken_Tai_Ichi/pseuds/Ki_Ken_Tai_Ichi
Summary: "The entire concept was ridiculous, but apparently no one wanted to hear Hux’s opinion on the fact despite his new position as Grand goddamn Marshall of the First Order. But approved it had been, and here he stood on the raised dais of a grand hall constructed from polished marble opposite to his husband-to-be: Supreme Leader Kylo Ren."In a show of unity, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren and Grand Marshall Armitage Hux are wed. To try and appease the many planets and people aligned to and/or trading with the First Order, many different wedding traditions were integrated into the ceremony. Hux could have hardly imagined a more unnecessary or exhausting affair.(Kylux Positivity Week, the 3rd, Day 3: Marriage Ceremonies)
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren
Series: Kylux Positivity Week (the 3rd) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2197605
Comments: 15
Kudos: 36
Collections: Kylux Positivity Week the 3rd





	Steeped in Tradition

**Author's Note:**

> *sigh* maybe I’d have a better chance at keeping up with the daily updates of a week event if I stopped writing 6k+ stories >_<
> 
> Also, since the Kylo’s ability to read Hux’s mind varies from fic to fic, I just wanted to say that in this one, Kylo can easily read Hux’s surface emotions, but has to actually try to read underlying thoughts.

* * *

The entire concept was ridiculous, but apparently no one wanted to hear Hux’s opinion on the fact despite his new position as Grand goddamn Marshall of the First Order.

_Think of the unity_ , the old relics of the fallen Empire had crowed as the idea made it rounds among the long-retired officers in smoky cigar halls.

_The joining of old and new, we could hardly ask for a better symbol of the First Order_ , declared the younger, but still old enough to know better, upper brass who had been around as ensigns and privates during the Empire’s fall.

_Maybe they’ll finally stop trying to kill each other and focus more on the war_ , whispered the officers who were not yet born during the Empire, but were old enough to have attained a suitable rank in the First Order.

Hux could understand all these viewpoints, though all were ultimately incorrect.

_Unity._ Marriage was a social construct. If there wasn’t any semblance of harmony and accordance prior to the union, then marriage wasn’t going to spontaneously create it. Those decrepit windbags should just die and take their aggrandized memories of Darth Vader and Grand Moff Tarkin with them.

_Symbol of the First Order._ An interesting experiment. What would happen, if you take one person born and partially raised in the decadence of the Galactic Core, a person gifted from birth with a mystic power and who came into the First Order as a leading figure, and you married them to an Outer Rim bastard child who had to systematically move his way up the ranks with hard work and engineering prowess.

A spoiled child turned raging beast with more power in his fingertips than any singular person had any right to have married to a military general who relied on strategy and scientific advancement.

Yes, Hux could definitely see how that would work out well.

And as for not trying to kill each other anymore…Hux saw little point. He’d never had any strong desire to kill Ren because despite all the equipment he’s destroyed, all the soldiers he’s terrified, all the plans he’s ruined, and all the disrespect he’s given Hux, Ren was ultimately more useful to Hux alive than dead. So while Hux would have preferred to stand at the top of First Order alone, sharing the space with Kylo Ren really wasn’t a bad consolation. But he’d thought that way long before this sham of a marriage had been proposed.

No, as wasteful as the wedding was, both in resources and time, being married to Ren wasn’t the worst part of this entire affair. The worst part of it all was probably the wedding in itself. Namely, all the absurd ceremonies they had to fulfill to pander to the various worlds aligned to or in trade with the First Order. Diplomacy was one thing, but trying to include as many wedding traditions as possible just to make a few delegates happy was really just too much.

Fortunately, the lack of family on both his and Ren’s side has made a large chunk of these ceremonies null and void. And their positions in the First Order hierarchy made them too valuable for anything that could compromise their safety, which –thankfully— included anything involving lethal weapons, dangerous substances, and the fake “kidnapping” of the bride before the wedding with a ransom of, as the tradition often dictated, liquor or pocket change. Hux didn’t want to think about how many different cultures had some variation of that last ritual.

That’s not to say there weren’t plenty of other inane ceremonies to uphold, like the one from Dvharksi III, which involved carving a spoon from a block of wood to be gifted to your future spouse before the wedding. As suggested by the Dvharksi III ambassador, Hux added some details to the utensil such as an old-fashioned wheel and an interwoven knot with four small spheres nestled between the loops. Though the symbols he added were more a showcase his skill than an indication of the support he offered to Ren or the four children he desired to supply genes for.

The spoon he’d received from Ren had two hollow, interlocked hearts on the end followed by a delicate corkscrew handle with two spheres just before reaching the bowl of the spoon. Hux had idly wondered if Ren was adamant on the two children thing or if he just didn’t have the patience to carve more. It wasn’t like either of them were going through the hassle of giving birth after all, so why would they have to limit themselves to only two future protégés? Perhaps a discussion for later.

The Belighon pre-wedding ceremony, however, went less than smoothly, though all things considered the leniv dissection went about as well as he’d expected. What could have been a clean removal became a bloodbath as Ren stabbed the leniv’s belly too deep and yanked the blade through its viscera too fast, likely relying on muscle memory of the battlefield to guide his hand. They were lucky the target organ they were meant to retrieve, a tiny thing comparable to a liver, hadn’t been ripped apart. Otherwise the Balighonian delegates wouldn’t have approved of their union, citing their inability to work together as proof.

But approved it had been, and here he stood on the raised dais of a grand hall constructed from polished marble opposite to his husband-to-be: Supreme Leader Kylo Ren.

Feeling good, thanks largely in part to an excellent cut and shave from his best man, Phasma, as well as the several glasses of bourbon they’d shared last night, Hux managed to stand atop the raised dais with his head held high. The elegantly woven golden circlet perched lightly atop his head and matched the golden accents to white clothing that was tailored but not so much as to emphasize the difference between his frame and Ren’s. The soft fabric was of finer quality than he was used to wearing, and he almost caught himself lamenting its eventual, but guaranteed, loss at the end of the wedding.

Ren, meanwhile, wore a simple black trouser and sleeveless top with a black cape made of something translucent. Hux hadn’t the chance to touch the material to confirm, but it appeared to be something like silk or muslin. It shimmered faintly, something Hux might not have noticed if Ren didn’t periodically shift underneath the light of the setting sun, and it struck a faint memory in Hux’s mind. Something about brides and veils, but Hux couldn’t be sure if he was remembering it quite right.

It was strange to see the other man without sleeves, though, and the image of Ren’s pale skin against black cloth was hard to pull his gaze away from. As were the intricate geometrical patterns that had been inked from shoulder to wrist.

But as simple as Ren’s clothing was, his crown was another matter. A Naboo inspired monstrosity, it had been crafted of platinum and inlaid with Mustafar fire diamonds and was elaborate and opulent to a near offensive degree. Hux thought it was dangerously close to tacky, but he had ultimately elected not to say so. It was as much Ren’s wedding day as it was his. Additionally, Ren had enough bulk on his body to balance the sheer size of the headpiece, so it wasn’t garish enough to necessitate Hux’s intervention.

So he stood there, facing Ren, as the officiant droned on through his script about the significance of marriage and the bonding of their souls and the great duties they were promising to each other. All things considered it was a rather simple ceremony.

And while Hux could have personally done without the vows, he did his best to string together some nonsense about loyalty and unity and combined strength. Those concepts he could at least speak about with some amount of experience and sincerity. Ren’s vows were similar, but leaned a touch more aggressively into subjects like love and happiness. Things Hux knew very little about and suspected Ren knew that to be the case. Why would he include such subjects in his vows if not to mock Hux?

Nearly an hour into the ordeal and the woven rope of prayer beads and flowers that hung around his and Ren’s shoulders started to grow heavy, but he bore the weight so as to bless their marriage with longevity (and, more importantly, to appease the Cortascian VI delegates in attendance).

After their vows ended and the officiant spoke a bit more, rings were presented to each other. Hux stripped his left glove, Ren’s rough callouses scratching his skin as he slipped the tungsten carbine band onto his ring finger. He slid his glove back on before placing the matching band on Ren’s ring finger. He noted that the inked drawings extended across the dorsal of Ren’s hand as well. One delicate curl encircled a mole the sat between his middle and index finger.

And then came the kiss.

It was simple and clean. No tongues or moaning or groping, as Hux had threatened Ren not to attempt even as a joke. Just a firm press of lips and lips as the attendants applauded their union.

Hux could faintly hear the flutter of wings, and he pulled back in time to catch the last of the various birds, and one species of winged reptile, take flight. Just as “kidnapping” was a popular pre-wedding tradition, so were releasing winged creatures upon the pronouncement of marriage. For some it was simply good luck. For others the speed of the birds’ flight determined the longevity of the marriage. For others still the direction of the flight mattered as south, the direction of the rising sun, meant a strong marriage while north, where the sun set, spoke of divorce or widowing. Hux watched the animals race upwards until their bodies diminished into pinpoints and eventually disappeared from sight.

Part of Hux wished he could do the same, but there was still more to come.

They walked down the aisle towards the double doors, arm in arm, under the archway of old-fashioned steel sabers wielded by various high-ranking officers of the First Order. Hux had not been involved in the politics behind who was selected for this honor, on the grounds that he hadn’t cared, and as such didn’t recognize any of the faces flanking him.

He glanced over to his new husband and, with a startling realization that came like a shot of adrenaline, he fully understood that he was _married_ to Kylo Ren.

Perhaps it was best that he started to refer to the man on a first name basis. And the rest of the walk towards the reception, as some wedding guests threw things like paper confetti or flower petals or grain in accordance with their traditions, was done in near silence as Hux considered how and when and if even to tell Kylo to call him Armitage.

The reception hall they eventually entered was enormous. Mosaic floors and fresco ceilings and two mirrors taking up the entirety of the walls at opposite ends to trick the eye into thinking the room was even larger. The south side of the hall was taken up by doors that led to the single balcony that stretched along the hall. The north side of the hall was occupied by the tables of food and drink, though the servers –real, breathing people and not just droids, Hux couldn’t help but note—were weaving through the crowd with trays of delicacies so the guests wouldn’t have to do something as penurious as walk to the refreshments.

Kylo and Hux were directed to one such table on the north side of the hall, laden with entirely cakes. One that stood out, mostly due to the sheer size, was white and tiered like steps. From this, two pieces were cut and given to him and Kylo. They were instructed to feed each other a bite. Hux tried to glare at Kylo without actually making the face, and Kylo must have been reading his thoughts again, because he seemed to understand Hux’s warning and didn’t deviate from the plan. The cake was alright. Fluffy and sweet, though the frosting was a bit chewy and saccharine.

The next cake involved them eating their own piece, but only after interlocking their arms. It involved standing closer to each other than Hux cared for, but at least that tradition was completed without issue as well. Hux absently licked an errant strip of frosting from the corner of his mouth, savoring the creamy texture of the bittersweet topping, and tried not to notice Kylo watching his lapse in manners.

Another cake had ribbons wrapped around it, and all the single people of the night were called over to remove one. Apparently, there was a ring affixed to one, and whoever found it was fated to be next. Hux sent a sympathetic glance to Unamo as she was crowded by well-wishers that both congratulated and teased her.

The last cake of note was another tiered tower, but rounded disks that made it more like a cone. The cake itself was almond, one of Hux’s favorites thus far, and decorated with a latticework of icing atop. What was even better was the bottle of wine revealed inside.

Before they could open it, though, there was one more food-related tradition. This one supposedly came from the Outer Rim planet Juntiern and involved bread. This bun of sweetbread was shared between the newlyweds, and whoever took the biggest bite was to be the head of the family.

Hux stared at the bread in his hand, his gloves having been removed after entering the hall, and glanced between it and Kylo’s mouth. He knew the lips to be deceptive, as Kylo’s mouth wasn’t as large as they would lead one to believe. However it still posed a threat. Hux turned over the bread in his hands and considered its dimensions. He gave it a slight squeeze to determine its approximate density.

He may have lost the chance to be the head of the First Order, but he wasn’t going to lose here.

Hux opened his mouth wide, feeling his jaw ache from the strain, and shoved in as much bread as he could, squishing it back into his throat, before clamping down his teeth for a bite. The bread blocked off his airway and left his cheeks puffed, but what was left was perhaps one-sixth of the original bread’s size.

And clear victory for Hux.

Kylo stared at him with a certain dark intensity, probably jealous over his decisive win, as Hux carefully chewed as swallowed the massive load in his mouth. The eye twitched as Hux stared him down and casually licked away a tiny bit of frosting away from the corner of his mouth, daring Kylo to say one word.

Silently, Kylo ate the remaining nibble of bread and Hux smirked at his obvious dismay towards Hux’s newest title.

After the bread, he was so relieved to finally have a drink that he didn’t even care he had to share the cup with Kylo. What the Klah’quorinese saw as a symbol of their bonded souls, Hux saw as a nicely acidic wine he got to have less of. He made a mental note to sneak a second glass for himself once they’d finished all the refreshment-based traditions.

And finally, _finally_ it all seemed to come to an end with the mixing and drinking of two different drinks gifted to them by the Ecchterian delegates into one cup, to symbolize the mixing of their two lives into one. The resulting taste was a muddled abomination that wasn’t sure if it was meant to be bold or sublime, so it had decided to be neither. He still drank it all though. No sense in being inhospitable, after all.

Only that wasn’t the end. Not really. There was still the first dance to share.

Hux had to cast his mind back to the academy he’d practically been raised in, when they were taught precisely two partnered dances in the sole etiquette course in their final year. One was a basic waltz, the other a simplified ballroom step. Hux didn’t know if Kylo had ever learned any dances back when he still lived in the Core, but his athleticism kept him from stumbling as he followed Hux’s lead.

Kylo’s hand sat warm on his shoulder, but the hand clasped to his own seemed sweltering in comparison. Hux hoped his palm didn’t get too clammy from the prolonged contact and instead tried to keep focus on the routine. He could feel the eyes of all the wedding guests as they danced across floor, alone until the first song finishes, but the stare of Kylo’s dark eyes weighed especially heavy.

The instant the band fell silent, Hux stopped. Kylo stood in front of him, their chests barely touching if they both breathed in at the same time, and Hux tried to correct that with a step back. The hand on his shoulder slid away, but the grip on his hand remained firm. Hux turned to see Kylo staring at their clasped hands like he would those strange Sith scriptures Snoke used to present him with.

“Kylo,” Hux whispered, trying not to draw the attention of others. “You can let go.”

But he didn’t. He merely blinked, slow as if he were awakening from a daze, and gave Hux’s hand a little squeeze. Was he really trying to test Hux’s patience? Now, of all places?

Hux bit down a sigh. He could hardly imagine having an argument on a wedding day to be an acceptable tradition on _any_ world.

“Come on, let’s get a drink.” He suggested and began walking towards the refreshment table. Kylo followed, refusing to release his hand even when Hux proffered him a glass of champagne that was really too good for him.

Hux stood there, his hand captive, as he sipped on his drink and tried to relax. If he closed his eyes, maybe he could pretend he was at a beneficiary gala or promotion ball. Just forget about the hand holding his and focus instead on the ache of being on his feet all day and the low rumble of chatter all around. That was more like it. Yes, he was at a First Order event in his dress uniform. It was nearly the end of an evening of glad handing and polite conversation, and he would soon be able to retire to his rooms. The nice thing about being planetside was the running water readily available in the refresher. Perhaps he’d draw a bath. Take the extra time to soak in the hot water and let the warmth seep into his tired body. Allow the weight of the planet’s gravity settle over his bones as he sank deeper into the tub. The steam would suffuse the room, bringing a sweat to his exposed skin and flushing out the dirt from his pores. It would already be so hot in the room, but maybe he could even risk a bit of self pleasure. Take his time and really-

Kylo suddenly dropped Hux’s hand as he coughed. His face was a bright red, no doubt exacerbated from his hacking, and the empty flute nearly slipped from his grasp. Hux caught it just as Kylo mumbled a quick, “be right back”, and stalked away. Only to stomp back to Hux seconds later and plant a quick kiss on his lips.

Ah yes, the Dh’varsi delegates had a tradition of spouses sharing a kiss each time one has to leave the room without the other. It seemed a bit much, but Hux was more focused on the brief respite he would get with Kylo gone.

Not a minute into his blissful solitude though, a smirking Twi’lek with light-blue skin that Hux vaguely recalled hailing from Canto Bight waltzed up to where Hux sat and placed a chaste, but firm, kiss across his mouth. His date for the evening, a curvaceous woman who looked a decade the Twi’lek’s senior, leaned down to plant a gentler kiss that barely brushed his lips. They left the table after imparting him congratulations for his marriage, paradoxical given their previous actions, and headed for the dance floor.

Hux made the connection between Canto Bight and what turned out to be another ridiculous wedding ceremony when another couple, the CEO of an exceedingly wealthy mining company and her wife, gave him a kiss each.

He had been at the bar, replenishing his bourbon, when the shorter of the two women appeared and gave him a brief peck on the lips. Afterwards, her wife, the CEO who cut a lean and elegant silhouette in her tuxedo, stepped up and gave him deep and sensual kiss. Hux reflexively flinched when she traced her tongue across the seam of his mouth, and the kiss was broken when she pulled back to laugh.

It was a good sign, she’d assured him between chuckles, as that indicated he was more faithful to his new husband than rumor would suggest.

Konstanze, as she’d introduced herself, went on to request two flutes of champagne from the bartender and presented one to her wife, who Konstanze fondly called Mellie (short for Melisande, the woman in question later explained). Konstanze idly sipped, interjecting every now and then with a snide comment or joke as Melisande explained the tradition to Hux.

Apparently, the people of Canto Bight saw marriage as little more than a slightly more elaborate game of dibs, as the spouse was up for grabs any time their partner left the room. How quaint.

The moment Kylo got back, Hux swooped in with a quick peck and ducked outside to smoke a quick cigarra, or two, or five.

Though the crisp evening air and the bruising purple nebula above and the soothing nicotine in his veins was all temporary, as the moment Hux wandered back into the reception hall, his body was shot through with _something_. Something that made his spine cold and rigid, something that made his heart fall silent, something that made his chest constrict to a startingly painful degree. Something that happened at the exact moment he came back and saw Kylo Ren kissing some woman.

Now, many wedding ceremonies were reliant on the traditional heterosexual couple, with most being about the bride. They’d been able to tactfully avoid the worst of them, namely the litany of “kidnapping” situations the bride must undergo. All in jest, of course, but vaguely humiliating. At least as far as Hux was concerned. The idea of saving the helpless damsel or, worse, buying a bride was terribly old fashioned, and the thought that such a sexist tradition could have been applied to _him_ left a bitter taste in the back of his throat.

That’s not to say Hux had any qualms about being a “bride”. He was obviously not a woman, and, if he was, there was nothing inherently bad about being seen as one ( _weak, fragile, girly_ his father’s voice echoed in the back of his mind; Hux finished off the bourbon in his hand to suffocate it).

Besides, their marriage was a farce anyways. What did it matter if some distant planet ascribed to him the title of bride? And it wasn’t like it was just him. Kylo had been given the designation by several worlds as well.

While the Majhornese saw Hux as a bride with his white outfit of purity (which Hux had initially agreed to given the humorous irony behind it, what with the blood of billions coating his hands), the Quageans saw Kylo as a bride with his dark robes of fertility that mimicked the rich Earth.

While the Perkonians saw Hux as a bride with his golden circlet affixed with tiny bells, the ringing of which would cast away malicious spirits, the Ghianish saw Kylo as a bride with his elaborately painted forearms, a greater indicator of stature than even the Mustafar fire diamonds adorning his platinum crown.

So Hux had seen this little kissing ceremony from Canto Bight as yet another way he’d been arbitrarily chosen as the bride (arbitrary, he’d had to remind himself, not because you are slimmer, not because you are weaker; _thin as a slip of paper and just as useless_ ; no, no, you’re fine). And yet it seemed this tradition was not gender exclusive.

So was that what made Hux pause? Mere surprise over a tradition not being exclusive to a bride or groom? But a mental reassessment of this magnitude really shouldn’t have warranted more than a brisk realization, a small ‘ _huh_ ’ at most. So then why was he rooted where he stood? Why did the thought of approaching that table, of interrupting the moment between Kylo and that woman, seem daunting? Why was his blood pounding and his chest so tight?

Well, that last bit he could answer. He was angry; he knew that much. But at what was beyond him. Was he just upset by how much Kylo looked like he was enjoying himself? The soft smile he shared with the woman after their lips parted was so different from the heavy stare he’d give every time Hux kissed him. Did he wish he were married to a woman instead? Did he think being with Hux was a chore, some punishment he’d been saddled with as penance for the former Supreme Leader’s death?

Hux set his empty glass aside before he accidentally broke it. He snatched a glass of something from a passing waiter and drained it without a second thought. That cup joined the other on the table, the ice inside rattling as he slammed it down. It wasn’t as if he were enjoying this marriage either! What, did Kylo think he was the only one suffering? That he was the only one who could do better, who would be happier going around kissing other people?

In three steps, Hux caught up with the waiter and grabbed another glass, and after a quick thought grabbed a second. He guzzled the first drink and left it on another empty table before stalking over to where Kylo sat.

He used a carefully regimented footstep to keep his vitriol from boiling over and focused on the cold condensation underneath his grip. Kylo looked away from his partner and watched his approach. He seemed inordinately pleased, most likely at the anger he read from Hux’s mind, which only served to bolster it further.

“Ah, my husband has returned. How was the cigarra?”

“Wonderful.” Hux replied curtly, not trusting his voice to remain placid enough for much else. “A moment, please?”

The woman smiled, as if she had any iota of what they were going to be discussing, and got up from her seat. She sashayed over to the next table and joined in on their conversation with an innate ease and warm welcome that Hux had never known.

“We should stop leaving each other alone, this Canto Bight ceremony is a bit much.” Hux proposed before taking a sip of what he now had the peace of mind to identify as whisky. The bite of the drink didn’t dislodge the tightness of his throat, however, and he set aside the glass before he could hurl it aside in frustration.

“Is it? I quite like it,” Kylo smirked. “You get to _experience_ new things with it.”

Hux clenched his hands behind his back to abate some of the ire spinning wildly in his head so that he could speak clearly and without a hint of the raw emotion that clawed away at his chest. “Have you ever thought that is precisely the problem? You don’t know these people. What if they’re carrying diseases?”

“Diseases?” Kylo repeated, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

“Don’t laugh,” Hux pre-emptively snapped. “This is serious. What if you transmit whatever you catch to me?”

“Do you plan on making it a habit to kiss me?” Kylo asked, his lips definitely quirking up into a smile.

“There’s other modes of transmission. Look, perhaps _you’re_ different, but I don’t very much enjoy getting assaulted by strangers. If we could please stop leaving each other in the reception hall alone.”

“But then I wouldn’t get to kiss you when one of leaves.” Kylo replied, his mouth perched in a mocking pout.

“Oh shut up, and wouldn’t that just be another reason to stay together? Now we won’t have to do that either.”

Kylo was silent, his dark eyes shimmering from the low lighting of the reception hall like they were twin pools of water under the midnight sky. Hux suddenly felt what was maybe a slight draft brush across the back of his neck. As the icy sensation permeated through his skull, spreading bit by bit like the delicate steps of an especially long-limbed spider, Hux realized Kylo was still staring directly at him.

**OUT OF MY HEAD.** He broadcasted the demand throughout his mind, loudly and firmly like he was commanding the drill field, and watched Kylo’s eyes blink and refocus.

“Look,” Kylo began after wetting his pillowy lips, “I didn’t know about the Canto Bight thing until just now, and, since _apparently_ I’m not the only one who doesn’t like to share, I’ll agree to us staying together for the rest of the evening.”

Hux didn’t know what the hell Kylo was getting at with his ‘not liking to share’ comment. Most likely some insult that Hux really didn’t have the care or patience to examine too closely. Not when he got what he ultimately wanted out of the exchange.

“However,” Kylo intoned, and just like that Hux knew this amicable concession had been too good to be true. “I do want us to kiss every time we leave, even if it’s together.”

“What? Why?” The words fell from Hux’s mouth before he could control their delivery, but Kylo didn’t sink his teeth into the sharp pitch of Hux’s voice like Hux had expected him to.

“Because I like kissing you. You taste good, you make nice sounds.”

Hux really wasn’t sure how to respond, given that he wasn’t entirely sure how much of that comment was sarcastic. Odds were it was mocking, but Kylo had never managed to deliver his sarcasm with any subtly before. And yet the thought of treating the comment as sincere was ludicrous, too much so to even consider.

The best course of action was probably just to ignore it. Getting a rise out of Hux had been Kylo’s goal often enough in the past for Hux to be sure that not rising to the bait now was the only safe option.

“Fine. I agree to your terms.”

“Perfect,” Kylo chirped before getting to his feet and heading straight for the closest balcony door.

“What, where are you going?” Hux was quick to catch up, their leg length not too different, but Kylo didn’t slow. Not even when Hux placed a warning hand on his bare wrist. It was so warm under Hux’s touch.

“I feel like I need some air,” Kylo replied, and he simply pulled Hux along.

“I was just outside not two minutes ago, and you fifteen.” Hux shot back as he leaned his weight back in an attempt to wrangle Kylo back to the table. He’d left his drink there, after all.

“I think we could use more, stuck on that starship like we are,” Kylo grunted and gave one final yank to pull them both across the balcony threshold. Hux nearly tripped over his own feet from the sudden disturbance to his equilibrium, but Kylo was quick to catch his weight and readjust it to keep Hux upright. The result though left them nearly chest to chest. He met Kylo’s cheeky grin with the more glowering frown he could muster.

“Oh, well what do you know, we’ve left the reception hall.” Kylo said, in a terrible facsimile of surprise.

“Just shut up,” Hux muttered. He threw his arm around Kylo’s neck and pulled him down for a kiss. If this was how Kylo was going to play, then Hux was going to make him regret starting this game. So he wanted to embarrass Hux with more kisses? Fine. Then Hux was just going to show him how far he’s willing to go. Make Kylo Ren think twice before trying to fluster him again.

Kylo’s startled gasp was all the opportunity he needed, and Hux took full advantage of it. He slipped his tongue between two full lips and into the slick, wet heat of Kylo’s mouth. Hux searched through Kylo’s mouth, cataloguing every moan and whimper that escaped from his throat. He pulled back for a quick breath, biting at Kylo’s obscene lip before diving back in and taking advantage of what he’d learned. In moments, Kylo was trembling and clasping Hux’s tunic in an iron grip.

Just to see what would happen, Hux rolled his hips as he sucked Kylo’s tongue back into his own mouth. He could almost laugh as the man shuddered. He rocked his hips against Kylo’s once more as he paused for another breath. He placed a careful kiss against Kylo’s lips, like a punctuation mark at the end of a particularly effusive speech.

And Kylo was utterly speechless, as expected.

“Say, I think it’s time for the one ceremony I’ve been looking forward to.” Hux hummed as he leaned in close enough for his moving lips to brush against Kylo’s.

“W-what’s that?”

“Our disappearance,” Hux purred before gently nipping Kylo’s swollen bottom lip. “I studied the building layout prior to our wedding and have made note of which areas receive the least foot traffic.” He reported as he left little pecks along the corner of Kylo’s mouth, and his cheek, and his chin, and his jaw, and his throat, and his collarbone. He glanced back up. “Would you be able to use the Force to make everyone look the other way?”

“Yes, a simple task.” Kylo replied, his hoarse voice reminiscent to that wretched vocoder he’d finally seen the sense to get rid of.

“Good,” Hux placed one final peck on Kylo’s slack mouth and pulled away. “The best route would be the eastern exit followed by a left, left, right, and straight. There, we’ll take the service elevator up to the floor of our suit. Do you wish to take point?”

“Yeah, um, yes, let’s go.”

And it went off without a hitch. All the guests seemed to have mysteriously lost interest in the men of the hour, and Hux could nearly laugh with delight as one guest performed an abrupt about the face the instant he got too close to Kylo.

The hallways were unlit and held a sort of muffled silence in comparison to the lively party they’d just escaped from. No resistance was met on their way to the honeymoon suite, and Hux could almost weep with relief as they finally reached the doors to their promised sanctuary.

But he pulled himself together and placed his hand on the scanner, only operable for the next few days by himself and Kylo. The door slid open without a sound and Hux stepped into their room, imagining a blessed night of deep, uninterrupted sleep on what would surely be a luxurious mattress, only to stop dead in his tracks. He faintly registered Kylo ramming into his back, but was too focused on the, the _thing_ lying on their bed.

“Hux?” Kylo rumbled behind him. “What’s, oh-” his question fell as he caught sight of the little interloper.

“Kylo. Call someone to have that baby removed before I _punt it down the hall_.” Without waiting for a reply, he stalked into the refresher, cursing the Czorakican superstition of having an infant awaiting the newlyweds to, ahem, _improve their odds of impregnation_.

He washed his face and brushed his teeth with a harsh urgency, more focused on sleep than proper hygiene. Thankfully when he emerged from the fresher, the bed was empty for him to faceplant onto. The comforter under him was tugged, and Hux groggily shifted his heavy body to maneuver himself underneath the covers. The bed dipped slightly as another body joined the bed, and Hux only faintly registered an encroaching warmth and steady breathing as his exhaustion began to take hold.

“Good night,” Hux muttered, as his mother had taught him a long, long time ago. Back when he still had a mother, and it was a little more okay to be thin and weak and fragile. He could almost hear the rain falling on the rooftop of their home as sleep fast approached.

The kiss on his cheek was unusual –his mother usually kissed his forehead— but not enough to rouse him to wakefulness. He let the peculiarity go unvoiced and let the tendrils of slumber tangle his thoughts until they were unable to echoed in his head, and he finally fell asleep.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> All of these wedding traditions are real (except for how a bird’s flight direction could indicate the future of a marriage and with Kylo wearing black to symbolize fertility; as far as I know, I made those up)  
> The website I got most of these wedding ceremonies from:  
> https://www.brides.com/gallery/wedding-traditions-around-the-world


End file.
